Secret Obsession (2 page)

Thankful for something to do—anything to avoid answering questions—Noah doled out a plate for Emily. She looked at him in surprise. “Thank you?”

“It’s not like our resident man-of-mystery has learned manners,” Chase commented. “He’s just avoiding Dad’s questions.”

Noah winced and eyed the door. He should go. This conversation had already strayed too close to truths he couldn’t discuss—some classified, some, well, they’d just worry. Some—things he’d done he would never talk about. To anyone.

He tugged on his jacket. “I’d better go.”

Before he could get to the door, Emily gripped Noah’s hand and her sympathetic gaze met his. He really loved his sister-in-law. She saw through more than most. Probably because she’d been to hell and back. “They’re worried about you, Noah. You scared them this time. Your dad, too,” she mouthed the last few words.

Noah scrubbed his hand over his face. His dad had lost weight from the illness. He looked pale. “I’ve made sure you can reach me anytime, anywhere,” he said, tugging a card from his wallet and handing it to his father. “This number will page me no matter where I am. I designed it myself. I won’t be out of touch again.”

Paul tucked the card into his shirt pocket. “It’s not about that, Noah. It’s about the riddle your life has become. What if something had happened to you? How would we ever know?”

“I’m a trained marine. I can take care of myself on a business trip.”

“Business trip, my butt,” Sierra said under her breath.

“You haven’t shown your face at any of your companies in six months,” Chase said. “Just a few conference calls. So where have you been?”

That they’d infiltrated the careful web he and Crystal had set up gave him pause. He had some major shoring up to do once he figured a way out of this mess.

Mitch settled next to Emily, clasping her hand while he bounced Joshua on his knee. “We get that you like your privacy, Noah. You’ve always preferred hiding off in your lab with your electronics and computers, but this is different. No word. Not even an answer to the calls and emails when Dad was in the hospital.”

Truth was, they didn’t know him at all. Noah had never wanted to disappear, but he hadn’t fit in. He’d never fit in. Mitch and Chase were the athletes and Sierra was the perfect daughter. They hadn’t understood him. Noah kneaded his neck. That’s why he’d joined the Marines, hoping to find a place in the family. But then the secrets just got worse. He couldn’t talk about his job. Or the Falcon.

So, most of the time, he didn’t talk. He just listened. Even now, how could he tell his family that he’d spent the past six months dealing with one crisis after another for Covert Technology Confidential based in the middle-of-nowhere Carder, Texas?

He’d backed off the government intel jobs, but CTC kept him busy, and truth be known, not a lot safer.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He slipped it from his coat and glanced at the number. A number he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “We’ll have to talk about this later,” he said. “There’s an emergency in Phoenix...” He let his voice trail off, too tired to lie. He sighed. “There’s an emergency. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Someday you’ll have to trust us with what’s going on in your life, son,” Paul said quietly. “We’re your family. We love you. We want to know you.”

Noah looked at them. They did love him. He knew that. He just...he didn’t know if they’d like him very much after the choices he’d been forced to make. Even with his brother Mitch and his dad as cops, would his family understand what the Falcon had been forced to do to save his own life and, more importantly, the lives of his men. Not knowing was better.

“See you soon,” he said. Emily struggled to her feet and hugged him close. “Be careful,” she said softly.

His throat constricted and he walked out to the front porch, the brisk winter air freezing his ears. He flicked on the receiver. “I’m surprised to hear from you, Reid. It’s been almost eighteen months. What happened to incommunicado?”

“I’ll call you back,” his old marine buddy said. “Stand by.”

He’d known Reid since basic training, and only twice had his voice held that much tension. Noah’s posture went rigid. This couldn’t be good.

The phone rang again. This time the screen showed an unknown number. Noah flicked a switch on the side of the phone. A Washington, D.C., number popped onto the screen. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Archimedes found her,” Reid said.

Reid didn’t have to say any more. Noah closed his eyes. Jack’s fiancée, Alessandra Cummings. The moment Jack had introduced her, Noah had been in awe. She was open, transparent and full of joy. She’d accepted Jack for who he was, for what he’d done. What would it feel like to be loved as much as Alessandra had loved Jack? Not a day went by when Noah hadn’t wondered. Damn, Jack had been lucky. For a year or so, he and Alessandra had lived a fairy tale. Until Archimedes.

It had been two years since Jack’s death. Noah didn’t know what name she used now. He’d promised Reid he wouldn’t track her after Archimedes had found her just a few months into hiding. To keep her safe, Noah had agreed.

“Is she...” He didn’t want to finish the question.

“She’s still alive as of an hour ago.” Reid paused. “This is the third time he’s located her, Noah. She should be dead. For whatever reason, he hasn’t killed her, but I have a leak at Justice. I need your help.”

Noah glanced at his watch. “I can leave within the hour. Where is she?”

“We placed her in Chicago. She’s ditched her phone. She’ll call me at noon. She’s scared, but it’s more than that. I don’t like the sound of her voice. She’s on the edge.”

“Has she given up?”

“I don’t think so, but she’s tired of waiting. Hell, so am I. The guy’s a damn ghost.” Noah could hear the fatigue in his friend’s voice. “I should have called last night, but I’d hoped the news would be better.”

“How close are you to catching him?” Noah asked. “Straight up.”

“No closer than the night Jack died.”

Noah ground his teeth together. He should have insisted he stay on the case.

“Archimedes is better than good. I reviewed the current status of the investigation after she called last night. They can’t nail him down. He doesn’t leave evidence behind when he kills. Hell, half the time I think they’re pinning all unsolved murders with little or no evidence on him.”

Noah tugged the keys from his jeans and strode to his SUV. “We both owe Jack our lives. This time, we protect her. And we find Archimedes.”

* * *

L
YSSA
SAT
INSIDE
the public library hidden by some shelves but with a clear view of the front entrance. She clutched her new phone in her hand. She’d transferred from train to train all night long, switching lines and directions. She couldn’t keep up this pace much longer. Plus she didn’t have an unlimited supply of funds, just the one thousand dollars she’d scrimped and saved and placed in the pocket of her ready bag.

She hated to admit she’d been stupid yesterday. She’d been thinking about the moment Archimedes would find her for a year, and when it happened, panic had won. She’d run.

In the clear light of day—and without Gil’s body on the floor—logic ruled. She sat here, watching people go about their everyday lives, and realized this was the answer. The strategy.

Go on with her life. Keep doing what she’d been doing.

Let Archimedes find her.

It was a good plan. She couldn’t go on any longer waiting to die. Archimedes was too smart, too deadly. She had too much to protect, and if he ever discovered that her true vulnerability wasn’t fear...she couldn’t bear the thought.

A shiver of awareness registered at the back of her neck. She swallowed. Had he found her already?

Her attention shifted to the entrance of the library. She peered at a tall figure pushing through the double doors. He wore jeans, a leather bomber jacket and cowboy boots. He didn’t belong in a library.

But she recognized the shape of his face, the color of his hair, and surprisingly enough, the fit of his jeans.

Where had that come from? She’d only met him three times. Once at a barbecue with Jack, once in a crowded bar and once at Jack’s funeral.

He scanned the room, then paused when his gaze fell on her. She shifted in her chair. Would he know her? He didn’t hesitate. He walked over.

“Alessandra,” he said quietly, his deep voice washing over her.

“Lyssa,” she whispered.

He nodded and surveyed the room. “Let’s switch locations before we talk.”

She ducked her head and grabbed the small bag.

“That’s all you have?”

“I’m traveling light these days.”

His brown eyes darkened. “You’ll be safe soon.”

Lyssa let him lead her out of the library and down the street half a block. When they passed a small alley, she pulled him into the shadow between the two buildings. She glanced around, but they were alone, save for a trash bin and a stash of cardboard boxes, blankets and empty whiskey bottles.

“What’s this about?” He frowned down at her, shifting so she remained hidden from the street by his large frame.

“I don’t want to be safe, Noah. I agreed for Reid to bring you in because Jack told me you were the smartest person he’d ever met. And you were ruthless. I want to find Archimedes, Noah. And I want him dead.”

* * *

T
HE
DINER
WAS
dingy, grimy and dirty. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the chair down before carefully sitting in the booth.

Alessandra had run, but he would have her. Soon.

He shifted in his seat. His feet clung to the sticky floor and he grimaced. Carefully using two fingers, he opened the menu then couldn’t bear to hold the germ-infested plastic in his hands. He rubbed the table with two napkins to protect his skin from touching the filth.

“Are you going to order or keep cleaning?” A young woman with streaked blue hair and a tattoo on her neck stared down at him, chomping her gum.

He focused on the table, gripping his trousers. She was rude, but she was probably rude to everyone. He should ignore the urge. He had more important work to do.

“Come on, buddy. Either order or get out. I ain’t got all day.”

He pasted a smile on his face, but inside, his head throbbed, pounding at his temples. “Coffee. Three sugars. Cream. Not creamer, cream. The kind that comes from cows.”

“Freak,” she muttered and snagged the menu from him.

He clenched his fists and watched with an irritated gaze as she grabbed a cup, poured coffee into it and carelessly dumped in nondairy creamer.

As if he couldn’t tell.

The waitress practically dropped the cup on the table. Coffee sloshed over the edge. She didn’t even bother to wipe it down. She sashayed away to another booth where a smiling young man winked at her.

They ignored him. They always ignored him.

She wouldn’t ignore him for long.

Abandoning the coffee, he stood and walked out the door. He took a half dozen steps and waited, an alley situated strategically behind him.

The girl ran out of the coffee shop. “You can’t leave without paying!” she shouted.

“And you need to learn some manners.”

He smiled and grabbed her neck in a calculated pressure, using twenty pounds per square inch directed at her carotid artery. He wanted her weak, not unconscious.

He dragged her behind an industrial waste bin out of sight. Car horns honked, but no one saw. They ignored. Everything. Everyone.

Her eyes grew wide. She whimpered, trying to break his hold.

“I don’t think so, girl.” With a smile, he slipped a knife from his pocket. “You’re very rude,” he whispered, pressing the knife against her side. “You must be taught a lesson.” With a quiet move he slit her shirt on the side and flicked the sharp knife through a layer of skin.

She opened her mouth, but before she could scream he covered her lips with his hand. He pressed her against the brick wall. “I won’t be ignored,” he said softy. “Or dismissed.” He drew the knife around her torso, positioned the blade between her ribs and shoved it in.

She tried to scream, tried to bite him. “Don’t bother,” he said softly. “You’re bleeding inside. You’ll be dead soon.”

The waitress tried to shake her head, then she blinked. Life faded from her eyes. He let her drop to the ground.

With practiced ease he slid his knife through her dress, baring her chest. He didn’t look on her tattooed curves with desire. Just disgust.

He dragged his blade across the tainted pale skin of her belly, then stopped. She wasn’t worthy of him or his attention. Marred with drawings and piercings.

Alessandra Cummings had none of those. Alessandra Cummings was perfect.

She’d run from him, though.

What a disappointment. He’d forgiven her the slight twice before, but this time she would have to prove herself worthy of him.

If she didn’t pass the test...

She would. She would come to understand they belonged together. Had always belonged together. Just the two of them.

He stared down at the woman’s body, then at his hands, bloody and uncovered. He tugged out a vial from his pocket and sprinkled the body with the concentrated accelerant he’d created.

The strike of a match and her body was engulfed in flames. He tugged his coat’s cashmere collar around his neck and slipped down the alley before rounding the corner.

Behind him someone shouted.

Sirens screamed, but he didn’t care.

Archimedes had a seduction to plan.

Chapter Two

In the midday light, the Chicago skyscrapers cast a shadow, smothering the alley with pockets of darkness. Noah studied Lyssa: her unwavering gaze, the determined set of her jaw, the circles beneath her eyes and her furtive glance at every hiding place, as if waiting for Archimedes to leap out at her.

“You’re exhausted—” he started.

“Weary to the bone,” she said, “but not too tired to know what I have to do.”

Fatigue written on her pale face, she stepped into the light. The sun illuminated the small worry lines in her forehead. She’d changed so much. He hated seeing her this way. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, comfort her and take the pain away. He wanted to tell her everything would be fine.

It would be a lie, though. He knew the truth and so did she. Archimedes had found her three times. He would find her again eventually. Unless Noah stopped him.

“Are you going to help me kill him or not?”

She didn’t back down, but Noah recognized the edge she teetered on. He’d been there. On every mission. The adrenaline rush that kept you going for a while—until you crashed, or made a mistake.

His plan to hide Lyssa away and then go after the serial killer himself exploded with the destruction of a rocket-propelled grenade. This was not the woman he’d met two years ago, the woman he’d envied his best friend over. The woman whose fluency in five languages intrigued him, whose nomadic childhood had shaped her desire to create a home with Jack. The joyously open woman for whom his friend had decided to give up fieldwork and take a desk job.

The woman Noah had fallen for before he’d realized how Jack felt about her.

No, he wouldn’t go there. The woman standing before him had been through hell.

Noah knew the place well.

“Lyssa—” he began, not quite sure how—or if—he could convince her to stay at the safe house.

“Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise, Noah. I’m sick of being afraid,” she said. “I’m done with running from a man no one can catch.”

Her green eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn’t pin down.

She finally sighed and raised her chin in steadfast resolve. “I’m tired of waiting to die.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Noah took a step toward her but she shook her head. He paused, then lowered the arm he’d reached out.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Noah. WitSec promised. Reid promised. The only person keeping his promise is Archimedes.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder. “I
will
find Archimedes. You can help me or I’ll go on my own. Either way, I’m finished postponing the inevitable. It will be over soon.”

Noah didn’t doubt her resolve for an instant, evoking a shot of admiration he hadn’t expected. Lyssa had turned into a warrior, and damn if he didn’t like her. A lot. Unfortunately, all that fire and vinegar would make his job a hell of a lot more complicated.

On so many levels.

If he’d met her in the field, he’d have been hard-pressed to keep his hands off her. He could imagine nights under the stars, working off the adrenaline of the mission in a too-small sleeping bag, hot, sweaty and satisfying.

As it was, she was Jack’s fiancée—even if his friend was dead. That meant hands off.

“Fine. I’m on my own.” Straightening her shoulders, she hesitated for a moment, peered up and down the street and the sidewalk, then took a step out of the alley.

What was she doing? He gripped her arm and pulled her into the protection of the building. Cornering her against the brick wall, he placed a hand next to her ear. “Hold on, Ally. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you.”

With only an inch between them, he could feel the slight tremble rush through her. A crackle of awareness vibrated between them. He’d never risked being this close to her and he fought his body’s immediate response. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of lavender, then clenched his fist to stop himself from touching her caramel-colored hair. He stared down at her and her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, her emerald eyes sparked in response.

This was not good, but he couldn’t deny the truth. Even strained to the limit, she was breathtaking. And he wanted her. He’d always wanted her.

With a shake of her head, she pressed her hands against his chest. He didn’t move. He didn’t want her taking off again. If he was going to protect her, he had to make her see her vulnerability. “Ally—”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, and with a quick, evasive move, ducked beneath his arm.

“Lyssa then,” he corrected, turning slowly. “Impressive. You’ve had self-defense training.” He leaned closer, deliberately crowding her. “So, what’s your plan to find Archimedes?”

“He wants me,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “It’s the one pattern I can predict. Unlike Reid and the Justice Department, I’m willing to use it. But this time on my terms.”

“Become bait?” He studied her, from her eyes to her guarded stance. He recognized another layer of emotion in every pore of her body. Resignation. She was ready to die. Well, he wouldn’t let it happen. “Do you have a weapon?” he challenged.

She opened her purse. “.45 caliber, hollow point ammo. Got it on the black market. Untraceable. Not that I care.”

“Kimber 1911. A .45’s got quite a kick.”

“I spend hours every week on the range and at the gym. I can handle it. I like the rear sight. Besides, it’ll blow a hole in him.” Her eyes went frosty. “He won’t get up again.

“If he comes to my apartment while I’m there, I have a super-shorty 12-gauge shotgun.” She sent a pointed glance at the small ready bag at her feet.

He hadn’t seen this spine of steel in her two years before, but he’d learned over time you didn’t really know a person until they had their back against the wall. Jack had probably known Lyssa was a fighter, but she definitely had more guts than Noah had imagined.

“The WitSec marshal was armed, and he had more training and experience,” Noah said, his voice soft and low. “Archimedes killed him. What makes you think you can do better?”

She clutched her purse—and the weapon—closer, but a flash of regret marred her expression before she shoved it away. She hadn’t perfected cloaking her emotions the way Noah had. She’d learned to quell them, though. Noah hated she’d been forced to use the skill. His ability to turn off his feelings made him doubt his humanity sometimes. It also gave him the ability to think on his feet. Lyssa had thrown him a curve. He’d have to adjust.

“How long have you been planning to go after him?” he asked.

“Since Reid brought me to Chicago. I knew if the FBI couldn’t locate him and put a case together, he’d eventually find me. I can’t risk...”

She swiped her hand down her face.

“Risk what?” Noah asked, watching as her face turned to stone before she averted her gaze. Noah’s instincts pinged a warning, that gut feeling that had kept him alive all these years. Every time he’d ignored the signs, he and his men had paid a heavy price. She was hiding something from him. Something important. “You’re taking a huge chance pulling out of WitSec. They have resources. Why are you
really
doing this, Lyssa?”

She zipped her purse and lifted her duffel to her shoulder. “WitSec failed Gil. And me. If I stay in the program, I’ll die anyway. Isn’t that enough reason?”

Her gaze shifted to the left. Why was she lying? He was here to help. He lifted the bag from her shoulder and his hand brushed her skin. The touch made his nerves tingle. He wanted to pull her close but he couldn’t. She was Jack’s. Instead, he shoved the urge aside and shouldered the duffel. “Reid wants you safe.”

“If he told you to hide me, just go home.” She reached out a hand for her things. “I won’t fight you
and
Archimedes. I can’t.”

Noah gripped the straps tighter. “Jack wouldn’t want you to die, Lyssa.”

Her arm dropped and she stumbled back as if he’d punched her. Noah refused to regret the words. Sometimes the end justified the means. He
would
keep her alive.

He owed Jack.

She swiped at her eyes, then blinked. “That was a cheap shot.”

“Did it work?”

She studied him, crossing her arms, feet apart, ready for battle. “Okay, Mr. Hotshot Spy Guy, what would
you
do? According to Reid, the FBI task force has no leads. Even when only Reid and Gil knew my location, Archimedes found me. He killed Gil and left me a message—”

“What message?” Noah interrupted. “Reid didn’t mention a message.”

“He wants me to be his. It was painted on my wall. In Gil’s blood.”

Her expression had frozen like stone, but Noah could see the effort in maintaining control. First the muscle at the base of her neck twitched, then her teeth bit into her lip. Finally, her shoulders slumped as if the energy required to keep up the front collapsed.

“No...no one else will d-die—” her voice broke “—because of me.”

Here was a glimpse of the woman who cared, the woman Jack had fallen for, who wore her emotions for all to see. She might try to put up walls, be a cold-blooded vigilante, but even Lyssa couldn’t keep her soft heart solid all the time.

Noah scratched his chin in resignation, the stubbly new beard not quite grown in yet. He’d thought he’d be heading back to Afghanistan before this call. “If I put you in a safe house, you won’t stay, will you?”

“He’d find me,” she said flatly. “So, what’s the point?”

Noah slipped his secure phone from his pocket. “If we do this, we need help. Right now Archimedes has the upper hand. We don’t know who’s giving him information or how he’s getting it.”

Lyssa grabbed his arm. “I told you. There’s a leak.”

“I’m not calling WitSec or even the higher-ups in the Justice Department,” he assured her. “Covert Technology Confidential is different. CTC isn’t government. Highly paid, highly screened. I’ve put my life in their hands more than once.”

She tugged at a gold chain around her neck. “I don’t know...”

“Lyssa, look at me.”

He wanted to see her face. He had to convince her.

She lifted her chin and those green eyes met his gaze with an unflinching challenge.

“I’m good at what I do, Lyssa. So are the people I work with. We can find Archimedes. We can take him.” He clasped her shoulders, slid his hands to her elbows, down her arms, then squeezed her ice-cold fingers. “Jack trusted me. So can you.”

She swallowed, and the gulp echoed between them. She looked down at the bag holding her weapon. One breath. Two breaths.

Had he persuaded her? He had this one chance. If she didn’t choose to go with him, he’d have to do something he really didn’t want to do—take her to the safe house against her will. He prayed she’d put her faith in him.

“Jack trusted you,” she said finally. “I’ll give you a chance, but if I get bad vibes, I won’t say goodbye. I’ll just disappear.”

“And I’ll be chasing after you until this is over.”

Noah let one of Lyssa’s hands go and dialed a number on the cell phone.

“Falcon?” the familiar voice answered through the phone. “Surprised to hear from you.”

Ransom Grainger, the head of CTC—formerly known as Hunter Graham, formerly known as Clay Griffin and a dozen other aliases—used Noah’s code name casually.

“Pretty good,” Noah said. “How’d you know it was me. This phone is secure.”

“Not from Zane.” Grainger chuckled. “It’s a good thing he’s on our side.... What are you doing in Chicago?”

“I need a favor,” Noah said, ignoring further proof of CTC’s tracking prowess. He’d need every advantage. “It’s a big one.”

“Name it.”

Lyssa pulled from his grip. Noah tried not to consider the loss of her touch. When she tugged at her bag, he slid it from his shoulder. She walked across the alley, crouched down and rummaged through her purse. She didn’t fool Noah. She listened intently to every word he said. One misstep and she’d take off.

“I need a full team. We may have to tap into WitSec. Maybe even an FBI task force.”

Grainger let out a low whistle. “I’ve got an insider—”

“No good. I have it from a top-notch source there’s a leak.”

A low whistle escaped from Grainger. “That’ll be harder,” he said, “but it can be done. You know better than anyone how to circumvent—”

“It’s Archimedes.”

At the mention of the serial killer’s name, Lyssa’s fingers fumbled momentarily at the duffel’s zipper, then she shook it off. She yanked a sheath from the bag, followed by a knife. Noah couldn’t take his eyes off her. With practiced moves she attached the weapon to her ankle. God, she had guts.

Grainger went silent. “What are you into, Noah? That guy makes some of our intelligence operatives look like amateurs.”

“Long story. I’m standing across the alley from the only woman to survive an attack by Archimedes. She needs help. He’s found her. Again.”

Lyssa didn’t pause this time. She removed her ragged coat, slipped on a shoulder holster and fitted the oversize garment over the weapon. Yeah, she definitely knew her way around a firearm.

He understood the move. She’d decided to give him a bit of room, but she wasn’t trusting anyone with her safety—not him, not CTC. She had armed herself with easy access to the .45 and her knife.

“What do you need?” Grainger asked. “Safe house?”

“She wants to track him down and eliminate him.” Noah lowered his voice. “She wants to be bait.”

The sound of drumming fingertips filtered through the phone. “It’s risky.”

“I know.” Noah said. “If you can’t do it—”

“I didn’t say that. If half of the murders they’ve assigned to him are true, he needs exterminating. I’ll pull Rafe, Zane and Elijah.” Grainger paused and Noah could almost hear the man he had once called partner thinking through every conversation they’d ever had. “She must be important.”

Noah’s memories of a flag-draped coffin lingered in his mind, of the woman broken and sobbing, struggling to remain standing. No comparison to the warrior she had become. “She is.”

“Expect the team in a few hours at Chicago Executive Airport. Elijah will want a firsthand look at the crime scene.” Grainger let out a long, slow breath. “You want this done so the feds can prosecute?”