Shadow of Doubt (An SBG Novel Book 2) (28 page)

Her blood froze.

“Eight photographs were of you shackled to that goddamn bed and four were of me and you together.” His eyes hardened. “The bastard who planted those somehow got a hold of the camera from Jersey’s vest.” His other hand clenched into a fist. “There’s even one of me placing you in the Black Hawk.”

Dots danced before her eyes and she touched the spot below her ear.

“Yeah, he captured that,” Cappy said softly, motioning to her hand caressing the area.

Violation like she hadn’t experienced since those days made her gag. “I want to see them,” she wheezed. How dare this . . . this . . .
butthole
cheapen the one and only good moment she had from that hell. Jeremy’s kiss was
hers
. Not something to be exploited.

“No.” His growl cut through her railing.

“No?” She straightened. “What do you mean ‘No’?”

“You don’t need to see any more of this psychological bullshit. One was one too many. Christ, you’re already experiencing episodes and reliving those days. Why in the world would you want to have those photos permanently etched into your brain?”

“He’s got a point,” Sonya said softly.

It was on the tip of Michelle’s tongue to lash out at her, toss in her face how Sonya would demand the same thing if the roles were reversed, but she slammed her mouth shut. She’d never use someone else’s tragedy to get her own way.

“So, as you speculated last night, the same asshole who killed April and Colin broke into Michelle’s apartment and planted photos of you two together,” Talon stated coldly from his position at the other end of the fireplace. “He’s trying to now screw with your heads as well as the Senator’s.” His blade paused. “He’s blurred the lines and made it known that whatever the fuck is happening directly relates to you two as well. I’m even more convinced this has to do with how you two met. We need the
whole
story.”

Cappy had been waiting for the demand. Knew it was coming the moment he saw those damn photos, but he still rebelled against admitting his colossal fuck up.

He forced his clenched hand to unfurl, and held every eye in the room. This team had been together for so long he could almost predict their reactions, but still he feared opening his mouth. What if he guessed wrong? Would they reject him? Demand someone else be their CO?

Take it like a man, soldier.
This thing was now bigger than his pride and risked Michelle’s safety. No fucking way would he be the cause of her getting hurt because he couldn’t take his lumps and accept the consequences of his past.

He let go of Michelle’s arm.
A man with disgraceful actions did not deserve to be comforted.

Clearing his throat, he told the story he vowed to never speak again, yet had revealed twice in as many days. When he reached the section about his team crossing the bomber’s path because of his order, he faltered. Not sure if he could move past the visions of seeing each member of his unit running directly into the kill zone. He had no clue what his explanation sounded like as he forced himself to finish it, but toward the end Michelle gathered his hand into her lap and clasped it between both of hers. He drew another breath and continued. “I woke up in a hospital bed, not remembering a damn thing. I couldn’t even recite my name, age, or anything personal.”

“Amnesia?” Grady asked, cradling Wraith against his chest.

“Yeah. For weeks. Sam filled me in. He saw the whole thing. Luckily my memories eventually returned but by then, it was too late. My family had already had the funeral service and the Army had some to-do with giving them my medal.” As if he really deserved it. “Anyway, Sam convinced me to stay dead and start over to keep my parents and sisters safe from retribution from the cartel. He never would tell me why he thought that was necessary, but he was adamant. I didn’t want to take the chance, so I agreed . . . And here we are.”

He held his breath.

No one spoke, just stared at him.

Christ. Should he offer to walk away? Make it less awkward for everyone?

Wraith sat up, her eyes shuttered, so Cappy had no clue what she was about to do.

Here it comes.
He tried to pull his hand out of Michelle’s but she held fast.

Wraith smoothed her palm over Grady’s chest and said, “You know I love you with all my heart, right?”

Grady blinked and answered with a drawn out, “Yeah.”

“Good.” She dipped her chin and turned back to Cappy. “Then you won’t feel threatened when I say, Cappy, I think I’m a little in love with you.”

The air in Cappy’s lungs froze. “What?” He scanned the room. “You can’t mean that—”

“You forget we
saw
Michelle’s condition,” Romeo asserted. “You just saved her life, risking your own in the process, and put her on a fucking chopper in the hopes the hospital could heal her. Jesus Christ, they
tortured
her,” he growled. “You did what any of us would’ve done, and I’m pretty sure I was already candid with you about—”

“Yes.” Cappy cut him off, worried he’d blab his mouth about Cappy loving Michelle, and choices. “You, Sonya, and Sandra made your views loud and clear.” He searched the room again. “Don’t make me into a hero.” He shifted, unable to even glance Michelle’s way. He hadn’t liked it then when she voiced the same sentiment and he sure as hell didn’t want the notion now. “I did what any soldier would’ve done.”

Michelle snorted and tightened her hand around his when he tried to yank it away.

“Yeah, not buying it either,” Magician said wryly, exchanging a rolled-eye look with Michelle.

Cappy opened his mouth but Wraith chimed in instead. “Let me ask a question. When you ordered your unit to burn down the building, was that sanctioned by the Joint Commander?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Okay.” She talked right over him. “When you gave the order to your unit, did you see the truck containing the explosives?”

His frustration grew. “No, but—”

“So, if you were carrying out orders and had no knowledge of a random truck driving up within moments of you giving the command, how are you responsible for their deaths?”

“Because it was my fucking duty to ensure every man in my unit made it home,” he snarled, finally getting a word in.

“No,” Wraith snapped back, her hazel eyes flashing, “it was your job to protect the innocent, and you did.”

Grady leaned forward. “From one military man to another,” he drawled, his accent thick and pitched in a way that demanded Cappy needed to listen, “we all know the risk when we put on the uniform. Every man in service knows they’re putting their life on the line to protect this country and its citizens.” His crystal blue eyes were piercing. “We also know a mission can go FUBAR at any second. No one can take the blame when things are Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition unless the commander had prior knowledge. You didn’t. Don’t cheapen their sacrifice by not remembering the success of the overall mission.”

“You helped cripple a major cartel,” Magician interjected, “and literally saved the life of the woman beside you.”

Cappy heard every word but had trouble internalizing the meaning. For too long he’d lived with the pain and guilt. “So that’s it?” He peered at them all, wanting to ask about leadership change, but couldn’t with Michelle in the room.

“You needing something else?” Talon asked, twirling his knife.

“Yes. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know.” Cappy scratched his chin. For five years he had dreaded this moment, hyped it to the point of paranoia, and the complete opposite happened.

“I told you last night we’re not the Army,” Wraith said pointedly. “Give yourself a break and have a little more faith in us.”

Cappy relaxed just a little. Michelle stroked her thumb across the top of his hand, soothing him more than he wanted to admit.

“So this Jersey,” Talon stated.

The tiny bit of peace evaporated.
I guess he’s ready to close this topic
.

“You sure he’s dead?” Talon drove right to the heart of Cappy’s fear.

“I told you, the whole unit died.”

“Supposedly, so did you,” Talon shot back.

Damn, the bastard loved to drive stakes into soft spots. Cappy raised his chin. “Jersey made it to a hospital in the states, but died shortly thereafter.”

Talon’s piercing gaze drilled into Cappy. Finally, he said, “Stay with me for a second.” He paced into the center of the room. “What if he survived like you did? He may have an axe to grind if he found out you’re still alive.”

“But why wait six years?” Cappy hated even speculating that a member of his unit lived and he did nothing to connect with the man.

“I don’t know, but I think Colin’s death, the Senator’s blackmail calls, and the frame job on Michelle aren’t a coincidence,” Magician responded slowly, tapping her chin as if in thought. “Now pictures are planted in her apartment of you two in Colombia? I think Victor and the killer are tied together.”

“Do you think Jersey’s alive too and a member of Victor’s assassin squad?” Cappy asked, not really buying the story but unable to fully discount it either.

“Assassin squad?” Michelle asked, horrified. “Good God. What the heck is going on?”

Christ, where to begin answering
that
? “That’s a loaded question we’ll have to put on hold for now.”

“It’s a theory,” Romeo postulated. “The only one we have that ties you, Michelle, and the Senator together.”

“Hey, guys.” Ted’s voice wobbled into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but the nightclub manager sent the footage from Friday night. Isis just forwarded it to me.”

Everyone shot out of their chairs faster than if they’d heard a “Free Beer” announcement and jockeyed to find a spot behind Ted’s chair.

“While he’s queuing that up.” Cappy firmly placed Michelle in front of him. It had nothing to do with taking advantage of holding her in the tight circle. His maneuver freed a spot for someone else, that’s all. “Talk to me about the investigation. We have the executed search warrant and the blood-free dress stacked in our favor. Any new findings?”

Romeo positioned himself behind Magician and placed a hand on her suited shoulder. “The Marshals discovered Michelle’s car at a Ford dealership after a mechanic called in the tip.” His eyes twinkled when they peered at Michelle. “Way to think outside of the box. I like it.”

She dropped her head and blushed. “Thanks. Just kinda came to me when my lit check-engine light caught my attention.”

Cappy felt a spurt of pride over lacing his annoyance at Romeo’s flirting. A car dealership was a good place to blend in if it was big enough. Malls, airports, and train stations were usually the first checked when the manhunt commenced.

Magician chimed in with, “Her case worker, Rueben, admitted he had tried to track her phone but by the time he got the program working the PussyFoot Strip Club was already known.” Magician smiled. “He’s been unsuccessful since.”

“Colin’s friend and Michelle’s coworker received their tickets to the opening night through an unnamed third party,” Wraith supplied.

“You think it was a setup?” Cappy asked.

“I do,” Talon answered. “I think it was your pal Jersey lining his dominoes up.”

“Well, let’s see if you’re right.” Cappy waved at the laptop. Acid gurgled and churned, doing its best to eat through his lining.

Ted pressed Play and in a weird sense of déjà vu, the team watched another round of video, looking for evidence of a murder.

The process was tedious, and he’d been delighted to watch the scenes with Michelle and her coworkers. The smile on Michelle’s beautiful face gave him hope that she’d be able to continue to find happiness when he left.

Slosh.
A wave of acid cramped his gut. He pushed the thoughts aside and scanned the rotating scenes. Every time Colin showed up, Ted pressed Pause and they all stared. Nothing. Not one face looked familiar.

“Wait,” Cappy ordered, leaning around Michelle. “Back that up.”

Ted did as commanded then played it forward frame by frame. “There.” Cappy pointed.

“Is that money exchanging hands?” Magician asked, also squinting at the screen.

“Can you zoom in?” Romeo asked.

“Uh, a little,” Ted answered, fiddling with the keyboard.

The images enlarged some, but not as big as Cappy would have liked. “Can you get them larger?”

“It’d be pointless,” Ted replied. “You’d lose definition and wouldn’t be able to see a thing.”

Frustrated, Cappy stared at the screen. Money and a square object traded hands.

“That looks like a keycard. We had to get a new one from the front desk,” Michelle said pensively. “He claimed he lost his.”

“Way to bury that lead,” Talon grumbled. “Should’ve told us that yesterday.”

Michelle stiffened.

Cappy squeezed her shoulder and shot Talon a shut-it look.

The operator just rolled his eyes.

“I think you’re right,” Grady agreed, squinting at the screen.

“Cappy,” Talon piped up again, “you recognize that man? He Jersey?”

Million-dollar question. He recalled the sergeant’s hard face and compared it to this guy. The camera angle wasn’t the best but it was enough. “No. That’s not Jersey.”

Many shoulders slumped, telegraphing everyone’s desire to have a name to go with the horrid deeds.

“You sure?” Talon pressed.

“Yeah. Face is wrong. Jersey was ugly as sin. This guy’s not.”

Romeo and Magician’s phones rang at the same time.

“White.”

“Stiles.”

Their expressions tightened the longer they listened until they became positively grim.

Christ. Now what?

They both hung up, then looked at Michelle.

She pressed closer to him.

Magician took a breath. “It’s your father.”

Michelle’s hand flew to her mouth and her body trembled.

“Someone’s attacked him,” Magician continued. “He was taken to Indiana General Hospital.”

“He’s here?” Michelle whispered shakily. “What about my mother?”

“She has minor injuries and is currently in protective custody with the U.S. Marshals but still at IGH.”

Jeremy paced the length of the living room. “This has to be the most asinine plan I’ve ever been talked into.”

Michelle sat frozen on the dining room chair, her eyes the only body part able to move, now getting dizzy from keeping up with Cappy’s movement. “I’m going with or without your help.”

“Obviously.” Cappy stopped and placed his hands on his hips, his deep frown telegraphing his displeasure. As if his outspoken rant didn’t get that message across just fine.

Sonya held up another thin prosthetic and adhered the cold rubberlike thing to Michelle’s other cheek. The woman then picked up her brush and began stroking Michelle’s face to blend it into place with some kind of foundation.

“Michelle,
think
about this.” Cappy began pacing again. “Whoever did this to your dad could’ve done it to lure you out of hiding. We don’t know if this is a third strike by our killer or if we have a new player. Either way you’re waltzing into a trap.”

“I’ve done nothing
but
think about this.” Michelle swallowed. “I
have
to go.”

Cappy whirled, his mouth open, but she barreled ahead. “Look, I
know
this is extremely stupid.”

His brows slammed down, then one popped up as if agreeing she was an idiot and couldn’t wait for the explanation.

“In fact, if I read this in a book or watched it on the big screen, I’d be booing the heroine’s loss of intelligence . . . But I have to go. My parents are also in witness protection. When they entered the program after me, the Marshals refused to place us together, spouting some excuse about jeopardizing my new persona. The second my father’s healthy enough they’re going to whisk him and my mother away to God knows where and I’ll never see him again. This is my only chance to talk to them.”

A few creative expletives dropped from Jeremy’s mouth as he ran his hands over his head. “This is
nothing
like slipping onto a private plane at a small airport. That’s kindergarten stuff compared to what you’re attempting to do.”

“With you and everyone helping me, this can work. Look at how much you’ve done so far.” Michelle pointed to her face. “No one will recognize me. I mean, I can’t see it yet, but it feels like I look totally different.”

“You do,” Raymond answered with a grin. “Agent White is a
magician
at disguises.”

Sonya slid him a glance, smirked, then shrugged. “Comes with my theater background.” She traded brushes and cast a sidelong glance at the other agent. “In fact, I’ve brought the bald cap and latex foam pieces I made from your mold, Stiles. I could make you look eighty in no time.”

He shuddered dramatically, then stopped as if suddenly inspired. “You know, I could be a very popular guy. No need for Viag—”

A pillow smacked his face, thrown from someone behind her. Raymond caught it and laughed.

“Michelle.” Sonya talked over her partner’s antics. “Since I don’t have the time to make a mold of your head, you’re lucky the stores love to put out holiday decorations and supplies early.”

“And that it’s Halloween, not Christmas,” Sandra joked. “I can just imagine how Ms. Magician would turn you into an elf.”

Their humor made Michelle smile, a first since receiving the news. “Okay, Ms. Magician, can you make about twenty pounds disappear from my body?” Michelle asked, hoping to keep with the lightened energy. Between Jeremy’s pissed off pacing and the gut-wrenching fear her father might not make it, all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry.

“You don’t need to lose weight,” Cappy snapped. “You’re perfect just how you are.”

Michelle’s eyes flew to his. Oh wow. He was serious. Her heart lightened considerably and she couldn’t stop the goofy grin stretching across her face.

“Gag,” Talon retorted from his favorite spot against the wall.

“You.” Cappy rounded on the man. “Head to Indiana General. Scope out the ICU area and possible ways in.” Cappy then pointed to Sandra. “You, go with him.”

Everyone froze.

“Put your personal shit aside and figure out how to be civil,” Jeremy barked and pointed at Sandra again. “You got your sniper rifle?”

Michelle jerked. She studied Sandra. Sniper?

“Yeah. It’s with me,” Sandra answered with no inflection.

Sniper?

“Good. Be on the roof or wherever you deem necessary. I want intel on who’s entering and exiting. When we get there, I want us covered. Start with cell phones but switch to comms when we arrive.”

“I’ve only got the throat mic and earpiece with me,” Sandra stated. “That okay?”

Cappy nodded. “Yeah. All we brought too.”

“Sorry, guys.” Ted grimaced with a lobster-red face. “I tried to get the adjustments to the pin-based ones done but ran out of time.”

Jeremy swiped his hand through his hair and muttered something like, “Since we’ve moved our operations, every project’s fallen behind schedule.”

Michelle’s interest peeked.
They moved?
The where-when-why questions flew through her mind, but before she could ask, Grady made to follow Sandra.

Cappy held up a hand, stopping him. “I need you to help me with something else.”

Grady’s mouth flattened and the look he gave Cappy telegraphed exactly what he thought about that.

“She’ll be fine,” Cappy soothed, turning toward the door. “Go, you two. We’ve got days’ worth of reconnaissance to accomplish in about an hour.” After the door closed behind them, Cappy addressed Grady again. “I need you to watch over Ted.”

Ted’s head snapped up and he gulped. “What am I going to be doing?”

“I’m not risking you with your uncle’s dog loose.” Cappy placed his hands on his hips. “Grady’s going to be your bodyguard in the SUV. You’ll set up whatever camp you can in the back and help get us through this goatfuck-waiting-to-happen without anybody dying.”

Michelle’s head spun. Sniper? Comms? Uncle? Did he mean Victor?

“Once I’m done here,” Sonya interjected, blending something weird on her throat, “Stiles and I will head to IGH and run whatever interference we can.”

“Check.” Cappy swiped his chin.

Raymond disappeared down the hall, only to return a moment later with a backpack. He pulled out black strips of nylon with clear and black wires drooping toward the floor. Holy moly. Were those the comms? They looked like the ones she saw in the movies and on TV.

“Damn,” the agent murmured, “wish we had the other type.” He thrust a bundle at Jeremy. “Harder to hide these. You’ll need to change your shirt.”

Cappy whipped his T-shirt off and Michelle almost fell off the chair.

Sonya chuckled in a low voice.

Mortification flared bright. Dang. Her drooling at Jeremy had definitely not been subtle.

“He really is a fine specimen, isn’t he?” Sonya whispered, winking.

“Yeah,” Michelle brilliantly whispered, her brain cells not exactly firing at the moment. Jeremy’s muscles rippled and danced as he fit the strap over his throat and tucked a clear wire behind his ear, then molded the receiver inside.

Moisture fled from her mouth and she shifted. Her core quivered at watching him transform from mystery man into a commando.

Cappy stalked forward.

Michelle pressed against the back of the chair and inhaled. Good Lord; she had never been so turned on in her life.

Agent White slid to the side and Cappy stopped just inches from Michelle, holding up a comm. “I’m going to help you put this on, okay?”

“Okay,” she lamely replied, pulling her turtleneck down. She’d have fought that action just yesterday, but after the group had seen the photo, they already knew the scars were everywhere.

Unable to hold his gaze without broadcasting her desire, she glanced down and got an eyeful of pecs. She exhaled. The solid wall of exposed muscles drove her pulse up to “near-heart-attack.” A fresh, pleasant scent rolled off him, making her squirm, her panties now uncomfortably moist.

His hands brushed over her skin as he fit the strap around her neck. Closing her eyes, she lingered on the sensation. What would it be like if he trailed those fingers a little lower?

His breathing became labored and she wondered if he was as affected as her. His thumb grazed over her favorite spot, and she sighed.

He froze and she opened her lids. His muscles undulated and swelled as he straightened, his eyes now resembling the darkest cup of coffee she’d ever seen, and his jaw was extremely tight.

She may not be the most versed in male attraction, but even she could tell he was just as turned on without having to check his crotch.

“How’s that feel?” he asked gruffly, shifting his hips.

“Like it’s choking me,” she answered, proud she could string those words together coherently.

He lifted his hand but she stopped him from reaching forward. She couldn’t take another assault on her senses. “I know it’s not.”

He swallowed. “If it gets too uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll do my best to adjust it.”

She gripped his hand. “I need a distraction,” she murmured, her voice now way too husky, “or I’m going to do the thing you asked me not to.”

His eyes dropped to her lips.

Her breathing stuttered. “Uh, yeah. That.”

His pupils constricted.

Oh yes. Please kiss me.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then asked, “What kind of distraction?”

She scrounged for something. Anything to say. “Try to convince me again how you’re not the leader of some sort of Ops team, here on a mission.” His muscles convulsed beneath her fingers. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m
extremely
grateful for the help. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be in custody, trying to persuade a bunch of scary people I didn’t do it, but the only person I believe is who he says he is, is Ted.”

His expression shuttered and he freed his hand. “That subject is . . .” Pause. “I’ve said too . . .” Deep frown. “I can’t talk about it.” He pivoted and strode toward the hall. She could’ve sworn she heard him say softly, “I won’t risk your safety. You mean too much to me.”

Her heart skipped. Had she heard that right? Michelle opened her mouth, to say . . . what? She had no clue, but Cappy cut her off by barking, “Sonya, Raymond, finish getting her ready to go. Ted, Grady, find the hospital’s schematics. We leave in ten minutes.”